A Very Rough Night Pt 2 (Patreon)

Full details after the story, but initial details & CW: Floaty, lighter than air inflation happening to multiple unsuspecting drunk girls as a means of petty revenge. Over the course of that, there’s also some mild, but regularly occurring burps & hiccups. There’s also a lot of focus on the anxiety involved with floating away.

Also, you’re in for a long one with a couple of shifts in style.

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“No!” The blond Kelse pleaded, her golden locks cascading down, spilling from her shoulders to across her puffy face as she slowly tilted. “Why’d you- let go- Stace- Don’t- let go- of me! Please!” Her rapidly growing body was filling with air & that air was now lifting her clear off the ground. From Mischka’s perspective filming on her phone, the round blond’s ballooning ass was eclipsing all the drama. But faintly, the hobbyist sorceress could still just barely hear the formerly fatter friend sobbing from the other side.

“I- I- didn’t mean- -urp- -didn’t mean to- I- didn’t know!” Staci cried, trying to leap up after her. But her own arms were growing too fat to do much more than swat. And she feared bumping into her again, sending Kelse higher.

“Ech-” Jordyn scoffed, realizing the futility but jumping to still try. She felt like she was on the moon, the way there seemed to be extra bounce in her step, going almost a foot higher than she intended. But extending her own rigid hand first, Jordyn managed to wrap her plump fingers enough around Kelse’s swollen thumb to yank her back down with a sharp jerk, just a little bit closer to the ground. “I’ve- got you-” This made things a little easier for Staci to help add a bit more ballast too, first grabbing at Kelse’s hair in lieu of anything else. The blond wanted to yell, but her eyes lit up from behind her puffy cheeks.

“Don’t- let- go-” she tried to plead, beg even, sounding like a cartoon mouse. Staci thought she helped save the day. A tearful joyous expression flashed on her round face.

“We’ve- got you!” She squeaked proudly, adjusting her grip to try & lay her arms on top of Kelse, rather than pull her hair. She laughed a relieved, squeaky laugh. As if the crisis was averted. As if she had just valiantly helped save her friend.

“Don’t you- get it…?” Jordyn winced to the both of them. “We’re only- delaying the- inevitable.” Her friends returned confused looks, Staci a bit more easily than Kelse. “It’ll- -urp- only be- a matter of- minutes-”

“Un- -belch -til…?” Staci burped. It dawned on her slowly, only to have her fears confirmed when her foot seemed to loose traction against the ground. Like she was still touching the pavement, but her weight was no longer holding her to it. And kicking her foot only slid it back & forth in place, scraping the ground. Same with the other. Another puff of a surge & suddenly they were no longer touching. “Ohhh-” she whined in a hissy squeak. That’s when a struggling Jordyn instinctively shot out her other hand for her other friend.

“That-” the dark haired girl snapped, grimacing as she tried to lean backwards & pull as much weight to the ground as possible. She fought the instinct to lament why Staci wasn’t the anchor. After all, she started out the heaviest. Instead she somehow found herself as the last holdout & did everything she possibly could from letting the three of them bob off helplessly into the upper atmosphere. Was this some sort of superhuman strength on her part? Was she like one of those mom’s whose adrenalin kicks into overdrive when their child is in danger? No. She kicked out her foot & remembered she was just fortunate to have picked her thick, chunky wedges tonight. They were heavy, dense even. A combination of them & her being the smallest of the three, that’s what was keeping them all grounded.

But Jordyn’s desperate attempt to maintain that seemed to be a losing battle. Not only were she & her two swollen growing far too light by the second, her own arms were getting pushed to their furthest extension & just the sheer girth of each coed was slowly loosening her grip. “It’s- no- use-” She stammered, still trying her best to hold on. But a gust of wind caught both Kelse & Staci. Their ballooning bodies acted almost like a sail, dragging Jordyn a couple of inches further along the sidewalk with another yelp. “AAIIIEEE! I’m- doing- doing what I can- -urp- but I- -I dunno- how much- longer- I can- hold out… you two- you’re starting to- pull me up- with you!”

“Ech,” Mischka hissed to herself. She could start seeing more of the fatty, well the one that had been the fatty, but the blond’s massive body was dominating her shot. “I wish I had a better angle of all this. It sounds- moving.” She joked. But that’s when she tilted to her phone off to the side, noticing something else. “Ooh!”

“H- Hel- Help-” another squeaky voice sounded. As tough as it was getting for them to lock eyes, Jordyn, Staci, & Kelse all looked at one another. It wasn’t coming from any ofthem. Then, something bumped into Kelse from the other side. The impact caused her to wince once again, her eyes bulging wide as the volume of gas within her displaced, & she smooshed mostly into Staci. But Kelse’s now nearly spherical frame eclipsed whatever it was from Jordyn’s view.

“Ooooooph-” was all her now massive, drum-tight friend was really capable of emitting, but her eyes belied a more intense discomfort, more severe than the noise she emitted.

“AIIIEEEE!” Staci shrieked, the impact enough for her to slip out of Jordyn’s fading grasp, as now, Jordyn too, could start to feel her own heavy shoes no longer making the same contact with the ground anymore.

“Huh?!” A confused Jordyn tried to lunge back out. “Grab hold!” She instructed Staci, but Staci’s fingers weren’t bending. She tried to wrap her wrists around Jordyn’s, but it wasn’t quite the same grip. All the while, Jordyn attempted to generate as much downward force as she could muster, even as her own body fought fiercely against her. She was fading, fast! But the very dire potential of floating away was enough of a motivating factor as to why she couldn’t give up. Now, even her fingers weren’t bending the same way they were just seconds ago. The air she was filling with had permeated into everyone of her joints. Waving at Staci, trying to grab a better hold of her only served to bump the auburn haired girl further away. All it did was elicit another loud burp from her, as anguish flooded her eyes.

“Hal- Ppp-” they all heard faintly again, as something once again bumped Kelse, fainter this time. Enough to knock Staci further from Jordyn’s reach. That’s when suddenly over the circular crest of what had been Kelse’s ass, Jordyn saw another, almost equally round sphere drifting skyward, wrapped in the tatters of an ash hoodie & red sweatpants. “Pul- -urp- leeeze-” Madi’s squeaks still had a drunken slur to them, as feebly, her now vestigial hands & feet flapped, doing little to prevent her from drifting further. She must’ve crawled closer or the wind blew them into her & now she had tried to grab hold of Kelse on her way upward. Jordyn didn’t fault her for trying to prevent herself from drifting up into the cold night’s sky. But she was already failing at holding down the three of them, nevermind a fourth.

“I- I-’m floa- -urp -ting- awa- -belch- -y!” Staci shrieked, her voice now as high as Kelse’s. Or Madi’s for that matter. As much as she would annoy the shit out of her, Jordyn felt terrible she was helpless to do anything about it, as Staci started to slowly lift up further over Kelse & join Madi. That was probably the worst part. How slow it was, & yet how little any of them could do anything about it.

“Omigosh, the drama.” Mischka laughed her sardonic laugh again, following the two girls’ slow drifting ascent. She scooted back a little, a little further safely out of the light, while leaning her head in a little still to admire her handiwork. The balloon that had once been the brunette was floating the closest her way, her bottom hemisphere first.

The belligerent drunk girl was now almost a perfect sphere, with the stretched out, tattered sweatsuit fabric holding tight where it still could, & constraining fast to the slightest remaining curves she had left. Curves that could indicate that maybe yes, once this quite possibly might’ve been a person. Hell, if it wasn’t for her fat, immensely swollen foot, & the rippling bulges that made out the remnants of her ankle & thigh, you would’ve easily mistaken her for a weather balloon. Given the english on her upward trajectory, more of her tilted toward the window the higher she got. First, there was the pale white bulge between what had been red pants & gray hoodie, the exposed midriff that was the first stop on the road to this current shape. It seemed tight, almost a little shiny in how taut it was being pulled. Then, at about quarter mast, there seemed to be two eroded lumps of what used to be pert, perky breasts. Now they were faint, stretched across her now, subsumed into the same balloonhood as everything else. She was helpless to keep her hair from flapping to the side as her head slowly spun into view. It sat in a pristine divot of what used to be much. much narrower shoulders, like the decorative button on a dangerously overstuffed cushion. Even her facial features seemed unable to escape the transformation, as air seemed to collect in not just her now round cheeks, but also plump lips. While it seemed she might’ve been a stunner before all this, Mischka thought there was something quite adorable about this current look. In its own way.

“Sooo- ti- ti- ght-” She could hear the poor thing faintly squeak from between those lips. For a split second, Mischka sadistically considered hitting her with one more “Lige Benne Oompha” for the road, but given how painfully full the girl looked, & how scared she was of never touching the ground again? The hobbyist sorceress thought she had put the poor coed through enough. Besides, she didn’t really want to test & see if there was a limit to all this. Not without knowing full well there was another spell to reverse anything, in case it got messy. And given how painfully full she was, things didn’t seem all that far off from potentially getting messy.

“Eeeeeee- -urp- eeee-” the more caramel-colored hair one screeched as she followed suit. She was a bit further out over the street, looking as though she was catching wind, or perhaps generating it, propelling a bit further away from the window. Mischka could only get a better view of her as the one in sweats spiraled past her. Given the sort of sycophantic vibes Mischka was picking up, there seemed to be something very fitting about how the poor girl was completely on her own now, her helium-pumped hands & feet losing more & more range with which to wiggle.

The weird thing about this girl was that Mischka expected her starting heft to keep her grounded the longest. And yet here she was, almost as big a blimp as the other two now. The two tones of her skirt acting as a demarcation line between what once had been her pillowy bust & slight potbelly of soft chub. But the skirt no longer extended past her navel, as floral print panties clung onto her for dear life, cupping the bottom fifth of her. Her one shoe finally gave way, plummeting back to the street as her swollen foot kicked one last kick in panic. It seemed to lighten the load slightly, making her lift a little faster, soliciting another “Eep!” out of her the quicker she seemed to rise.

The other weird part was that for as big as the blond was getting, she still hadn’t really taken flight yet. And Mischka certainly didn’t want to miss capturing the moment that happened, panning her recording back to the street.

“Don’t- let- go-” Kelse tried to rasp, her blond hair spilling over her face. It was so high pitched, it was on the verge of only dogs being able to register it. Jordyn still had her, but only by a failing fingertip. At this point, she was quickly becoming just as round, her swollen body pushing out & ripping her black dress the more it grew. Just as her own feet shuffled & slid along the sidewalk, unable to find any traction. But even without them firmly planted, all those hours in the gym seemed to be enough to keep them there, without lifting any higher. Still, holding onto Kelse felt more & more like a liability, but Jordyn couldn’t fail both of her friends.

“I’m -urp- try- ing-” Jordyn winced, totally not used to sounding like a chipmunk.

“Try- hard- er-” Kelse pleaded, somewhere between bitchily & deathly afraid.

“Ooomph-” Jordyn’s body bucked from an intense surge of pressure. It really didn’t help that her body ached from the internal pressure, attempting to push her out in every direction. And that pressure only seemed to mount, making her grow faster, in these sudden surge-like spurts. She tried to bend her finger tighter, not losing hold of Kelse, but suddenly, another new, weird sensation hit Jordyn. Not a surge, but an odd feeling, catching her off guard & making her blink in bewilderment. It was as if she was both faintly sitting & standing at the same time. Like her feet were pointed at the ground, but her ‘seat’ was now suddenly brushing it too, between her feet. She couldn’t look, but slowly it dawned on her in an unsettling way. She had grown so large, her crotch was now brushing the sidewalk. Like Kelse & Staci before her, her body had pushed so far out, it had effectively shortened her legs into squat little domes, & now it was catching up with her feet! “Aiiieee!” She panicked, flapping her feet as they already started to make even less contact. In her panic, she had effectively kicked off with one foot, & snapped the strap of her wedge in the other. Kelse’s eyes went wide as both girls started to lift off inch by inch. Until suddenly, their fingers no longer met.

“N- nooooooooooooooh-” Kelse cried. Her swollen facial features trying to scrunch into a look of betrayal. Without Jordyn for ballast, at the size she was now, her climb was a lot more precipitous than the others. And the further she got, the more massive Jordyn realized she had grown, looking a fair bit wider than she ever was tall.

“I’m- s- so- so- sor- sorry” Jordyn winced softly. She truly felt disappointment. As if she had failed both her friends now. But a panicked part of her, on some level, had let it happen, purely out of self-preservation. That nagging voice that figured without Kelse’s balloon-like body dragging them both upward, she’d be afforded at least a little more of a descent herself. Contact with the cold hard ground for at least for a few more fleeting seconds.

But that didn’t seem to happen. With the last vestiges of her limbs, Jordyn tried to move & shift whatever weight she could, as both of her prized wedges, the shoes anchoring her to the sidewalk, seemed to kick off. Ultimately, all it got her was an awkward spin in place, about two inches off the pavement. Make that two & a half. Then two & three quarters. “F-fffff-f -urp- fff- fuh- ffffuck” she finally expelled in resignation.

“So long, suckers,” Mischka snickered softly, with a bit of a yawn. With her sleepiness creeping back to her, she tracked the blond’s rise up to her own eye level. She was truly impressed with just how close to spherical that girl had become. Especially given the model-like proportions this girl started at. Now she seemed just a wee bit bigger than the others. And rendered topless. On some level, Mischka felt those two extra points of humiliation suited her, given her bad attitude. On the back end passing by the window, she could make out her face through errant strands of strawberry blond hair. She seemed to be sobbing as much as her condition would allow.

“I- -urp- don’ wanna- be- a- -uh- -a- bluh- -blimp!” she seemed to squeak in an almost impossible register. Mischka snickered.

”Shoulda thought of that before you made all that racket & called me a bitch.” She muttered faintly, catching the last few seconds of her floating by with her camera. “Because now you’re a blimp. A big, fat, stupid blimp.” For a second, the blimp’s eyes darted towards Mischka’s window. While it was probably too dark to make out all that much, Mischka wasn’t looking to take any chances, ducking to the side with a slight “Eep.” Hiding behind her curtain, she was missing precious moments of prime footage, but not having this get traced back to her was probably smarter. She bumped the recording on her phone to stop. She could always do a few edits before posting anyhow.

It was a bizarre feeling, Kelse’s skin throbbing from what felt like five or six feet on either side of her. But in almost all directions. There was nothing to do but feel herself drift further & further away from the ground, the already cooler night air getting colder on her mostly naked body. Try as she might, nothing moved for her any more. Not beyond her eyeballs & maybe her already taxed vocal cords. But even then, there was no bending her tight swollen lips out of what had become a perpetual pucker. And the noises that were coming out were embarrassing anyway. Laughable little squeaks. Helplessly, she was at three or four stories up at this point, seeing rooftops in the distance.

No, drifting higher & higher, there was little else for Kelse to do but let her mind race. Especially now as to the hows or whys. This definitely wasn’t just a matter of alcohol. Did Madi spike her drink? But then why did she blimp up too? Cover perhaps? No. Madi didn’t seem smart enough for that. And Madi was never near her drink in the first place. Her friend either. Someone else? Maybe. But who? Fuck, there were so many people she had stepped on. To get where she was? Too many to process. Heavy weighs the crown & all. Maybe, just maybe? She had this coming. A long time coming. She always knew the whole mean girl routine was playing with fire. And now? Well… She just wished Jordyn & Staci hadn’t been party to her punishment. Or hell, even Madi & her friend for that matter. After all, this was awful. Humiliating. Not to mention uncomfortable. Though now that she kind of resigned herself to this fate, lifting up above the buildings now, at least the view was kind of nice. All of the twinkling lights. The campus off in the distance. Maybe the sunrise would be pretty.

As Kelse tried to find peace in her fate, down on the street, Jordyn was still panicked. The dark haired girl’s pressurized torso filled further with more air, the lighter her body seemed to become & the faster she started to lift off. Another surge pressed through her & she felt it tear the seams of her skirt further.  “No -urp- nononononono” she kicked her disappearing legs feebly. What tiny amount of force it generated, the force served to  intensify her spin, awkwardly pivoting her forward, rotating face down, towards the ground, then eventually upside down, looking behind the last place she stood. That’s when she locked eyes with the mousy redhead one more time. Although “mousy” was probably no longer all that apt of a descriptor any more. Typically, mice were small.

Brooklyn watched helplessly as now Jordyn’s blimped up body slowly lifted higher & higher off the sidewalk, set to join the others. For as cold & calculating as Jordyn had always seemed, in this moment, Brooklyn looked into her fearful wide eyes as they darted from side to side. Like she was looking for something, anything to stop this. And when she couldn’t formulate a plan, a high pitched whimper left her puffy cheeks. Even upside down, her fears were palpable. She looked as though she tried to stick out a hand in Brooklyn’s direction, as futilely as it was given how far away she was. It was no use. While the tensions of earlier might’ve given way, & the redhead certainly would’ve helped, if she could have. There was just no way. And a look of regretful resignation befell both girls’ faces.

“I- told you- get- -hic- under- a cover-” Brooklyn lamented in her own soft squeaky voice. Having not spoken in minutes, the contrast was crazy. But she seemed to say it more to clear her own conscience than to rub it in. She tried to give ample warning, the instant she realized what exactly was happening. It was all made worse by how lingering & slow this terrible fate was. How long it took Jordyn’s swollen, squeaking expanse to drift out of view from Brooklyn’s alcove, as Brooklyn struggled with her own incessant bloating. She was on her own now, just as each one of them was. All of the other girls, her friend Madi included, were helplessly drifting up over the empty, pre-dawn college town like released parade balloons.

No, she tried to remind herself. She could feel guilty later! Right now, she was still, very much in her own danger.

After all, the cover she did manage to grab was spur of the moment, & ultimately? Rather shallow. While the others grew, & fought desperately to stay grounded & press as far back away from the elements as she could. But all the while, Brooklyn’s own body had continued to puff up too. And at this point, she could no longer reach the ground either. No matter how hard she mustered. Her now much wider ass had lifted her clear off of it a short while ago at this point, & now it was clumsily bobbing & bumping against the signage above the door each time she tried bracing herself better.

As her body bulged & popped holes further along the seams in her jeans, the redhead was very much becoming just as spherical as Jordyn, her limbs losing distinction as the flesh that composed them rounded with her swelling, balloon-like torso. The tightness? The stiffness, the pressure? All working against her. And the rounder she got, the less of her seemed to be under the cover of the jewelry store’s marquee. She used her arms as much as she could to push herself back further in, but now her arms weren’t quite working the way they used to. Any movement was slowly becoming a struggle. And having witnessed the proportions Kelse had expanded to, she realized that much like Jordyn’s clunky shoes, her attempt to save herself by finding cover, was maybe just a means of delaying the inevitable. And she only seemed to get closer to that inevitability with each surge of growth.

Mischka didn’t resume her recording as the Asian girl floated by, instead opting to snap off a few still pictures. She was sure not to let the flash go off, lest she be exposed. But they seemed clear enough. As she passed, the blimp let out a woeful whimper. Her ballooning body ate into the rest of her arms & legs, turning her all the more into a ball. Mischka toyed with the idea of feeling guilty, but powered through it. No, this was on them. Still, with a sigh & some modicum of very subtle hints of remorse peeking through, she mouthed the words “Shoulda picked better friends,” trying to maintain a cold veneer. As the last of the girl bobbed out of sight, Mischka stretched a big stretch.

Feeling maybe a little too proud of how well that all seemed to work, she sauntered back towards her bed. More time than she had hoped to spend but it was always fun, finding ways to experiment with granny’s old spells. Setting her phone back down on the nightstand, she was sure it was getting charged after so much recording. But as she sat down on her bed, she now suddenly felt just a little too wide awake. No way she was just going to drift off back to dreamland after all this. It probably meant her meeting was completely borked after all. They were probably going to lose this account now. Was all this really worth it? That’s when the hobbyist sorceress remembered this had all started off with five girls… but there had only been four blimps.

“Help-“ she heard very faintly. She rushed back over to the window. “H- -hic- helll-ppp-“

”Okay,” Mischka sighed, her eyes darting to the side as the gears started turning. “New plan.”

Brooklyn cursed herself for not thinking this through further. She forced herself to stop looking across the street. Whenever she did, she was reminded of an awning that stretched back into the building giving a good ten feet of cover. Grabbing Madi & whoever else she could manage? Maybe not enough for all of them, definitely not more than Kelse & someone else. But still, running under there! That would’ve been the move. It was too late for all the coulda/shoulda’s at this point. She made her choices in panic & now she had to focus.

As her body continued to round out, the back of her bumped the top of the store’s doorframe, but her head & shoulders pushed further & further out from under the marquee. The more her back filled & bowed out, the less contact her hands could make with the ceiling as a means of bracing herself & trying to wedge herself in firmly. And now? Even when they did brush the walls & make contact, they were mostly only slipping anyway. It didn’t help that the wider she seemed to get, the less she could squeeze herself back onto the conical alcove. Not without bumping against both displays. She tried not to think about how they were probably still five feet across from one another, & how that was the dimensions of her ass now.

“He- heh-” She struggled, worrying about the mechanics of this. “Help!” There was just going to be a threshold. A point she’d reach as her body continued to expand out of her control. Acertain amount of roundness for her where more of her was not covered by the marquee than there was covered. And at that point? The helium or whatever was in her would want to lift up, & flow against gravity, bringing her with it. Her balloon-like body would essentially start rolling up the front of the building, & then free to drift off aimlessly like all the others. “Help-“ She pleaded again, her shoulders & hips tightening as another puff of gas worked its way through here.

Where was it all even coming from? How could any of this even be remotely possible given the laws of physics? Coeds don’t just suddenly turn into fucking balloons! Spontaneous inflation? That’s not a thing, Brooklyn’s thoughts raced. What would she do if she did end up floating away? It wasn’t like she could swim through the air or anything. She already felt utterly helpless now. Hell, at this point, enough time had passed, she probably wouldn’t even be able to catch up with the others. In all their drunken bickering, at least they were left somewhat clustered together.

Hell! Maybe she should just kick off now! Do what she could to catch up. At least then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Having an ounce of suffering through this solidarity at the very least. She wiggled her feet, but no longer her leg. Her leg felt too stiff to wiggle. Now it was just her foot, & try as she might, even that wasn’t making contact with anything. Just her ass. And less & less of her back. Bumping along the ceiling, she could feel herself slowly spilling out of her ceiling cover. So maybe she couldn’t kick off anymore, as swollen as she was. But it wouldn’t be long now, she sighed, letting her arms go slack. Or at least as slack as the rigid growth would allow.

”Hel- ppp-“ She squeaked one more time, halfheartedly. The resignation was setting in quick. Less & less of her was making contact with the marquee & she could feel that contact lowering on what part of her body it bumped against, the more she grew. She started to wonder if she’d still experience her fear of heights even though she had absolutely no threat of falling in this condition. Would she maybe reach ten feet off the ground, hyperventilate, & pass out? Maybe that would be the most merciful outcome.

There were sirens in the distance suddenly. Brooklyn could hear them faintly. Couldn’t be for her or her friends. But if they came through this way, by the time they got here, maybe they could see her off, she thought. Another puff, another surge. “Oooomph” she grunted with a bit of an airy hiss, banging against the ceiling again. She could feel herself very slowly starting to tilt as the gas within her started to gain leverage against the side of the building. Here it comes, she thought as she picked up speed on her roll upward.

But as Brooklyn’s head tilted skyward, her swollen bottom half tilted downward. And while she had already made peace with becoming one with the sky, suddenly, it felt like very tiny fingers had grabbed a hold of her ankle.

“Gotcha,” A woman’s voice sounded from underneath her. Weirdly, Brooklyn’s tight-as-a-drum body felt the words reverberate through, more than she actually heard it. Followed by a “whoa” when whoever this person was seemed to start to lift up with her.

“Ooooo -hic-“ Brooklyn winced. “Let- go!” She tried to plead squeakily. “I- I- don’t want- to drag- you- with me!” The last thing she wanted was someone else’s ascent on her conscious. Besides what if they let go & fell? Or heck, what if what was happening to her & the others was contagious? Some new kind of pandemic or something?

”It’s chill, it’s chill,” the voice muttered, struggling with something. Something else ratchet around her ankle & tightened. Pinching off her foot, Brooklyn could feel an uncomfortable displacement of air within herself. She whimpered softly. “It’s a belt! I’m just tying you off to the- door handle here.” The voice cried out from beneath her. As she bobbed along the edge of the alcove, Brooklyn’s eyes shot wide. “There!” Suddenly Brooklyn lifted a few more inches before the loop around her ankle snagged & the belt seemed to pull tight. As much as her round body wanted to keep going, her ascent had stopped. “You hopefully- won’t be going anywhere. At least until those sirens get here.”

”Omi- god- omigod- omi- -heep- god-“ Brooklyn meeped. “Thank- you! Thank you so- -urp- much!” The commotion she tried making didn’t translate into much movement. Tethered in place, Brooklyn’s guardian angel slinked out from underneath her spherical frame.

”Don’t mention it,” the woman stepped back, she sounded like she was affecting a kind of customer service voice almost. A put-on. But Brooklyn was far too relieved to care or draw attention to it. “I saw what happened to your friends once they started floating past my window upstairs!” Brooklyn struggled to get a good look at her, but for that to happen, the petite, blond almost white haired woman almost had to step out into the street. “Cuh-Razy! Figured I ought to do my darnedest to make sure at least one of you didn’t end up flying away like that!”

“Thank you,” Brooklyn bleated. “Thank you- so- so- much!”

”Don’t thank me yet,” The voice sheepishly laughed. “Let’s just hope that knot holds until then!”

”I- see- them,” Brooklyn squeaked from her higher vantage point, tears of relief welling as blue & red lights turned the corner down the street. “Omi- gawd- Thank- you…?” Even in her stilled struggle to speak, she hoped it was clear she was asking for the name of the person that saved her.

“Oh, you can just call me Mischka.” Mischka flashed a Cheshire smile, knowing the redhead couldn’t see her as she stepped in closer, eclipsed by the girl’s own spherical body. She looked off to the other side to faintly see the other four round balloons starting to drift up just out of view. “Just happy I could help.” She muttered. “But I’m here with you. Just relax.”

Once the authorities got there, & the initial shock of Brooklyn’s appearance had subsided, she was more properly secured. The quickest makeshift solution was tying off more ropes & bungees to the balloon girl. Eventually, they called in an unmarked box truck, specially padding its walls with tied off blankets, leery of there being any sharp corners. Once prepped, a handful of first responders helped guide balloon-like Brooklyn inside. Paracords were tied off at her wrists & ankles, tethering her to not only just the inside of the truck but also to sandbags as a contingency measure.

There, bobbing a few inches off the ground, EMTs checked all of the girl’s vitals without fear of her floating away. It was determined that despite a bit of residual inebriation, & a slight shortness of breath spurred on by just how swollen she was, all things considered? She was otherwise the picture of perfect health. Off to the side, Mischka’s conscience felt a little clearer hearing that. Brooklyn was by all accounts, fine. Just inexplicably big, & round. And filled with what seemed like helium. Which, one of the EMTs was keen to point out, doesn’t just miraculously generate from the human body.

All that roundness of hers still continued to get rounder intermittently too. While things had slowed mostly to a halt, occasional surges or spurts of more air would come over the next hour. She seemed to cap out at a size just a bit smaller than Kelse before she lifted off Roughly just a teensy bit wider than she was tall. She complained of how tight & uncomfortable it was, but over time, now without the existential threat of entering the stratosphere, Brooklyn seemed to slowly get used to things as a blimp.

While all that was happening, Mischka, having been the one to call them, offered the police her account of what had happened, as a matter of public record. She recalled how she had heard some commotion outside, & tried to ‘roll over & ignore it.’ But when it only continued & she finally did get up to look, how there were suddenly big round balloon girls floating aimlessly past her window. And, in grabbing her slippers, her coat, & a belt, how she only got downstairs with enough time to narrowly save a thoroughly bloated Brooklyn from joining a very similar fate as the rest.

“Well,” one of the several thumb-shaped officers seemed to offer. Even as the more senior officer, he had seemed the most gobsmacked by the situation somehow. “I can’t say this sort of thing is your regular kind of emergency, definitely not something we often run into. But what I can say?” Mischka looked up with large puppy dog eyes, trying to lay her innocence on fairly thick. “Acting quickly, the way you did? Thinking fast? Nothing short of heroic if you ask me.”

“Really?” Mischka gasped. “Y’see because I had this really important meeting I was supposed to be at in like an hour. And now I feel like I’ve let my boss down. I’d call out, but he’d never believe me after- after all this!”

”Nah,” said the female officer, almost just as stocky as the first. “You saved that poor girl. I’m sure, given the situation, they’ll be lenient with you.”

“He’s never going to believe any of-“ Mischka started to lament.

”If you want, you can have them call us.” The first cop said confidently, winking at Mischka.

“R-really?” Mischka’s manipulative plan b had worked out a little too well. Truth be told, she really didn’t want to sit through that boring ass meeting anyway.

The thing was though, even upon seeing Brooklyn in her current, expansive condition, & hearing from both her & Mischka that there were other girls like Brooklyn on there, in the wind? The cops didn’t seem to do all that much about it. Despite the round redhead’s pleas that they were losing precious time, no one seemed to want to act on the information, or do anything about the others, only adding more fuel to Brooklyn’s fire, when it came to the idea of failing them.

That was until sunrise, anyway. When Staci drifted past the Traffic 6 morning rush hour copter live shot. It followed in pursuit for a while, this strange floating girl-balloon. They zoomed in to see the face was moving, eyes blinking, full lips trying to contort into a scream. That helped dispel initial theories it was just some kind of overinflated sex doll. The copter eventually had to break off to refuel. But in that half hour of coverage, the media started to pick up on the whole thing, especially as more & more mysterious sightings of the girls cropped up in the cold light of morning. Like UFOs in the daylight. That’s when it all started trending. #BalloonGirls

By mid morning, with part of the street a few doors down from O’Herlihee’s still blocked off, a News 6 satellite truck had pulled up at the scene of the incident. Following the scanners as a means to figure out how the brown haired blimp ended up in their traffic segment, they were the ones to draw a connection with the call about Brooklyn. Because of that they were the first to score an exclusive interview with both Brooklyn, the grounded blimp, & her apparent savior, Mischka, when each agreed. Tentatively.

While Mischka was leery of saying the wrong thing & sounding suspicious, she figured showing up on local tv was more fuel to get her boss to move the meeting. Besides, to her? There was something so playfully absurd about all this, & the irony that now she was suddenly somehow seen as a good samaritan, even by Brooklyn.

At the same time, Brooklyn was even more leery of being seen by so many people all over the city & maybe beyond, in her present, embarrassingly & immensely swollen state. Still, she felt she had vital information on the other girls & this might be the best outlet to plead for their safe retrieval. No one else was going to! They were counting on her!

Lights & a camera were ran into the box truck holding Brooklyn, with a boom mic hovering just over their heads as Mischka was instructed to get in as close as she could to the other, floating interviewee. She was racked with a weird flash of guilt again, stepping in & unintentionally bumping Brooklyn’s swollen shoulder. This had all been her doing. A tarp with a neck hole was thrown over Brooklyn as well, like a smock, concealing portions of her strained outfit that were not catastrophically failing. The EMTs had offered to cut the remnants off but as uncomfortably tight as they felt, they were one of the few things keeping her together & feeling like a person. And just like Mischka getting in close, now that they were in it & it was real, Brooklyn was having a lot more misgivings about all of this. Beyond her puffy cheeks, she was looking even more like a deer in front of headlights.

”So Brooklyn,” started veteran News 6 morning anchor Charisse Sullivan from the studio after a preamble. In the box truck, they could only hear her through a playback monitor. “It seems your friends are being spotted high above different parts of the greater metropolitan area at this point. You’ve told authorities there were five of you? In your own words, can you tell us what happened?”

Brooklyn took a big skittish gulp, followed by a deep breath. Her puckered, swollen lips tried to move but no noises came.

“Charisse, sorry to cut in-” Mischka interjected sharply. Her ‘customer service’ tone once again ran thick. “I know you’ve asked Brooklyn here the question, but I just want to preface that well- this poor girl’s been through an awful lot, & while we’ve been here all morning, speaking’s become a bit difficult for her.” She looked over to Brooklyn, the redhead’s bloated face a bit perplexed while also relieved she didn’t have to lead things off. “And while she might not sound quite the way she normally does, I don’t want your audience to think for one second that she isn’t incredibly brave for coming on to talk to all of you about this!” Mischka said, flashing a smile in Brooklyn’s direction. Between grit teeth she softly whispered “S’bullshit she just threw right into you.” Brooklyn, while blushing a slightly embarrassed blush, her cheeks almost matching her hair, was also put a little bit more at ease by Mischka being there. She was so nice.

“Yes. Of course,” Charisse assured, recoiling slightly in a smarmy veteran anchor tone. “Brooklyn, firstly, how are you holding up?”

“Well- I’m- only still here-“ She squeaked, pausing to suppress a burp. Her body wobbled & surge as she did, making everyone watching at home & in the studio, & everyone. in the back of the truck but Mischka & Brooklyn, tense up a bit. Having grown used to it, the redhead continued, relatively nonplussed. “On account of- Misch- ka’s- quick- th- thinking.” On the broadcast, before the camera could cut to just the two-shot from the scene, Charisse could be seen pursing her lips, looking as though she was trying to maintain an air of professionalism, while also suppressing a laugh. “But while- I’m safe- for now- my- friend- friends- they- need- need all- of our- help-“ Brooklyn pleaded. “Pl- please!”

As things snowballed, & the story started to garner more & more attention, the interview was picked up & rebroadcast nationally. Sightings of the other girls continued on social media throughout the day as counter to Brooklyn’s initial idea of ‘suffering in solidarity,’ the wind seemed to knock them apart & scatter the girls. Each in different directions.

“They- Need- Your- Help!” Urged an auto tuned Brooklyn, singing in an ultra-soprano, from bits chopped & screwed from the girls’ interview & turned into a song for Utube.

“Omigod, could you just imagine? Just standing there with all of your friends, hanging out, suddenly feeling a little gassy, & then bang! You’re a fucking massive blimp, drifting helplessly up into the stratosphere?!” This was asked by a lanky pierced girl with black & green hair. Upon saying the words ‘fucking massive blimp!’ Balloon emojis lifted up & a sound clips of children cheering, one of the default ‘congratulations’ messages, edited in for effect. The video in portrait aspect ratio cut to the goth girl in another part of her apartment, fretting. “Oh my fucking god! Like, talk about a brand new intense anxiety unlocked. I never even knew that was something you’d ever have to even worry about! What would you even do in that situation? Hell, what could you do?” The viral tiktak video asked, with about five hundred thousand stitched responses in the first hour ranging from the practical to the comedic, the spiritual to the… erotic? And that was before even broaching the real cranks, calling it a ‘false flag psy op to distract from the real news,’ or chalking up the cause of the sudden, rapid balloon-like growth to vaccines. At any rate, word was spreading like wildfire, as the peril of the #BalloonGirls, or now, the “O’Herlihee’s Five,” as Charisse Sullivan seemed to propose, slowly seemed to become THE topic of the day. And one with an apparent ticking clock.

“Ever let a helium balloon go up too high?” Asked an expert aeronaut, on this occasion, acting as a pundit on a zoom call to cable news. “The higher those gals get,” he posed in shorter, soundbite form. “The less dense the atmosphere becomes. The less dense the atmosphere, the bigger their bodies will want to expand even further. And- well- let’s just say I hope we can just get them young ladies down as quick as possible & avoid a really big mess!” Worried the hot air balloon pilot.

Shortly after the initial interview had wrapped, word came down they were going to finally attempt transporting Brooklyn. The plan was to bring her somewhere for safekeeping & observation, rather than chilling out the back of a rental box truck for god knows how long. Brooklyn tried to ask where exactly that would be, suspecting they’d maybe set up some sort of command post headquarters for her & the others somewhere on the college campus. But no one she asked seemed to have any idea, much less a solid answer. In such an already vulnerable state, she grew anxious. After helping her out so much so ready, the car-sized coed began begging the EMTs caring for her to have Mischka to travel with her, for moral support.

But, just outside the box truck, watching the police tear down the scene of their investigation, Mischka could hear Brooklyn’s anxious squeaks. And she decided she was done.

It was time to make herself scarce & slink back upstairs. A goodbye as Irish as her dad’s side of the family. With her meeting successfully postponed just as she had hoped, hell with even her boss calling her to do it right after the interview, she started to feel as though maybe she was starting to chance fate a little too much at this point, putting her face out there. Besides, pretending to be so buddy-buddy with such an otherwise seemingly very pleasant girl like Brooklyn? A girl she perhaps impulsively may have gotten a little too mad at & ultimately put through all this madness? Well, perhaps Mischka was already starting to feel a little too guilty. It wasn’t until she got back up to her apartment did it dawn on her how huge the whole story had blown up.

”Oh fuck-“ she muttered, flipping through the stations, & seeing some sort of coverage across most.

This was around the time a heavily edited version of Mischka’s recording went up to an otherwise brand-new, empty tiktak page. “The anonymous poster” claimed there was no audio because they didn’t realize their phone’s camera was set to mute. It was slow to find traction, being on a clean otherwise sterile page. But once the algo picked up on the hashtags, things started to go wild. It gained views steadily throughout the day, catching up & eventually surpassing many of the other viral posts on the matter. Many saw the girls fighting & whole fanfics were suddenly being written about internal drama among the O’Herlihee’s Five. Others provided their own reacts & speculations as to what was happening. And others simply wrote it all off, calling it all a complete hoax, attempting to cash-in.

Unbeknownst to the four, newfound celebs drifting helplessly along in the sky, statelines started getting crossed, turning things into a federal issue. Local authorities turned things over to governmental authorities. As certain girls drifted into new media markets, some stations covered the events live, or with regular updates in a blatant attempt to keep up with what was trending. Meteorologists were instructed to look at the corresponding wind current data, as a means to project the flight paths for the three out of the four girls they had eyes on, based on different widely accepted weather models. First Jordyn, then Madi, followed by Staci. Kelse had still yet to be accounted for. By lunchtime, crowds gathered along these projected routes to watch & snap photos, while authorities tried to develop plans for the girls’ safe retrieval.

Many thought an opportunity was missed when Staci’s bloated body bumped into one of the glass high rises of the commercial district. For a few brief moments, her spherical frame softly bumped off of, then hovered mere inches away from the structure. Office workers inside even reported some very gassy, unladylike noises emanating from the girl upon each bounce. The problem was at that height, none of the windows opened. No one was able to lay a hand on her as she careened along the glass & once again was swept away by the light breeze. But clear shots of her crying, puffy face were suddenly all over social media.

Once the authorities brought radar into the equation, they were able to keep easier tabs on each of the girl-balloons. That afternoon, with her phone off, lounging on the couch, hardly able to stay awake, Mischka watched on the local news as they mapped each girl & a team from their own university was working with the federal government to outfit an industrial sized drone. They had hatched a cunning plan to “catch” Jordyn.

Their brilliant scheme was actually not that crazy at all. Adding a lightweight, foam-padded circular frame to the bottom of the drone, the idea was to simply position the drone above the dark haired girl, cup her with the custom frame & then simply bring the drone down into a nearby designated field where a team would work to quickly secure Jordyn before moving on to try the same with the next balloon girl. America watched with bated breath as Jordyn’s swollen body unwittingly drifted into the designated spot.

That morning had been rough for Jordyn. Exhausted, freezing, hungover, utterly humiliated, unable to move a muscle, & always feeling like she was on the verge of exploding. On top of all that, she hadn’t eaten anything since that last glass of water in an attempt to sober up a little, & a handful of the stalest bar pretzels from a half hour before that. Now, at least a couple hundred feet off the ground, roughly the size of a midsized SUV, all she could do was breathe short, sharp breaths, maybe take in a pretty vista for a few fleeting seconds, then when she was bored of that, try to nod off so at the very least she wasn’t so fucking tired. Besides, maybe the next time she woke up, she’d be back in her bed, with the understanding this was all some sort of horrible nightmare. But no. Then Jordyn’d hear car horns or a helicopter circling her & suddenly that nap was cut short.

While to her, it felt like a week had past, she knew full well her spurts of sleep never lasted more than a few minutes at a time. And the way the sun was sitting must’ve meant it was mid afternoon at this point. A day that felt as though it took two whole years. And now, another annoying ass helicopter was on its approach, much to her chagrin. But this one had a speaker on it? Some kind of bullhorn? It was hard to make out over her own tense throbbing heartbeat reverberating in her ear drums. But it sounded like…

“Miss Kim,” They knew who she was! She had no idea how they were possibly able to recognize her. Like this? But that was her surname. The reality was that they were able to put two & two together based solely upon Brooklyn’s description & checking them against the school’s records. “We’re going to try & return you to the ground safely.” The voice seemed to instruct. “We’re just going to need you to act-“ it sounded like they said ’Calmly?’ It was hard to make out exactly. But it made sense, in context. She suppressed her flippant urge to argue there wasn’t any other way she could act. But then, the reality was, she really couldn’t even do that. She couldn’t do much of anything. But that’s when she heard another propeller. Or maybe sets of propellers.

The makeshift monstrosity first floated into her view.

”Ungh- -urp- hnngh- ngh” Jordyn moaned unintelligibly in soft squeaks. It was intended to be an “Oh hell no” but she no longer possessed the control to articulate it that fine or properly. Floating a bit higher than her now was a large quadcopter drone with a wide, conical framework beneath it. Cheap gray foam was duct taped around each of the frame’s bars. The breeze from the rotors made her freezing sides even colder.

”Remain as still as you can,” the voice from the speaker tried to instruct, again as if Jordyn had any choice in the matter. Slowly, still coasting along her steady route, she drifted underneath the drone. “Now!” The voice said, as if springing some kind of trap. The drone rapidly started to descend, its frames wrapping around & hugging the curve of her sphere-like shape. It was like some kind of inverted egg cup. “You’ve got her!” To these people’s credit, between the foam & the spread out surface area of the frame, it flying into her full bore wasn’t as hard of a forceful impact as she had braced for. Not that it was all that comfortable really. She was quite tender after all. Unable to handle much. But the push was not terrible. “Descend, descend.” The voice instructed. Feeling the vibrations come through the frame & ripple across her drum tight body, the rotors seemed to pick up & start spinning faster. There was a slight dip, but Jordyn wasn’t really lowering.

”I’m trying,” The drone pilot answered, on the other end of a radio Jordyn couldn’t hear. “I’m tilting the stick to max! Either the drone’s not heavy enough or the… girl has got more lift than we anticipated. All the while, the pilot kept the stick cranked. With the propellers maxing out, it had only led to lowering Jordyn a whopping five or so feet over two minutes of pushing.

“Oooooooooph” the girl-balloon huffed. As if she was continually pressed from above. It elicited a couple of gassy emissions, but even she could tell it didn’t seem to be working to plan. That’s when she heard, or maybe more like felt, an unsettling creak, coming from just above her.

“Abort! Abort!” The spotter sounded, watching part of the makeshift frame give & suddenly begin to buckle. If it snapped, not only would the whole cup shape tilt & possibly send Jordyn’s round bulges teetering perilously close to the rotor blades, there was a chance the snapped bar could potentially stick her, like a pin. The spotter recognized that would spell curtains for her, the drone, & quite possibly even the copter, depending on the blast radius.

Fortunately, the drone pilot was able to use the monitor & uncouple from the blimp, lifting away from her with a bit of a tilt to keep from further stressing the point where the spot welds failed AND prevent her from spinning up into the rotors. Once clear the frame seemed to fall apart with parts plummeting into the open field below.

”Sorry, Miss Kim! We have a second option ready, as a back up.” The voice sounded out to her again. “Just hold on for a bit longer.

”Unnnnngh,” Jordyn huffed, unsure if they could hear her soft moans or not. Again, she had nothing else better to do, but continue to float along at a speed of about 10 km an hour. They were quickly running out of empty field though. The helicopter broke off to a safer distance.

Like this, she had a real tough time gauging how much time had passed, but it was a only about sixteen minutes before suddenly, the sound of more propellers filled the air around her once again. This time, Jordyn couldn’t see where they were coming from, but it sounded like a lot of drones. Once a couple finally did fly into view over top of her, they seemed to be dragging long lateral poles along with them, each tied off to what looked like a massive, reflective piece of Mylar. Like a marathon blanket. The comparison made Jordyn start to wonder if she’d ever be able to run a 5K again.

“Ok, Miss Kim,” The voice came back, this time even fainter, further away. “Brace yourself.” It warned. “Pilots in position?” When enough time for about half a dozen affirmative responses to be given passed, the voice commanded “Descend.”

Suddenly, the entire pack of drones lowered, quickly matching Jordyn’s elevation. As they did, they dragged the marathon blanket with them. It dawned on her, they were trying to catch her in it like some kind of net, just as it finally made soft contact with her. At first, completely out of her control, her body bobbed & bucked as it bounced along the barely there Mylar. The crinkly material was not much harsher than the tight remnants of her panties, clinging to her for dear life. Much to her own chagrin, er roundness almost tried to roll out from one side, escaping upward, towards the one corner where the drone was a wee bit too little slow. But again, quick maneuvering saved the day & Jordyn’s balloon-like body came to a rest fighting at the top of the netting.

With the power of what must’ve been several drones this time, it seemed as though she might actually be lowering. It was hard to tell now that the crinkly fabric & its reflections flashed in her face upon enveloping her. She simply closed her eyes, breathed as deep a breath as her body would allow, & hoped for the best.

From the suburban neighborhood designated as “Dropzone B,” it was quite the sight. Almost like some sort of specialized military operation, trying to capture a runaway dirigible or something. Kids getting home from school watching as Patrol SUVs & first responders mobilized quickly to the new waypoint in the middle of an otherwise peaceful cul-de-sac.

They didn’t need her very delicate body to actually touch the ground, especially not with the tiny pebbles on the street’s surface left uncleared. No, just low enough to lay hands on & strap weights to. Jordyn felt these pokes & prods almost like tiny jabs. It took a few minutes for her to realize they were even hands.

”Jordyn Kim, one of the missing O’Herlihee’s Balloon girls, has been rescued safely, & secured.” Charisse Sullivan announced as Mischka rolled over on her couch.

“That’s nice,” she muttered in a sleepy daze, gently pulling a throw pillow over her head to help block out the light. Missing so much sleep was zonking her out now.

Parts of the same rescue team were able to break off, & run ahead of Madi’s location shortly after. Using that same mylar net method, the team was able to snag her within the hour as well. Much like with the first attempt to bring Jordyn down, there was a slight hiccup where several of the drones started to overheat. Madi’s slightly larger frame was generating a little too much lift & took everything the drones had. Luckily they were still able to work through it, & bring her down to a much more agreeable altitude. This time, the landing zone was over a large empty mall parking lot around 4pm.

And just before it got dark, news came down that Staci was also back down to ground level, safe & sound. The report gave no word on any of the girls’ conditions, simply beyond being ‘stable.’ Which given their delicate volatility, didn’t even seem like the correct word for most viewers.

As dusk started to fall, that only left Kelse, who had somehow managed to elude searchers for hours. It seemed implausible, given her size upon lift off. That was until she was spotted from a commercial airliner at sundown.

Somehow, all those extra inches led her to get higher than the others, faster. Once she hit the wind currents of the upper atmosphere, she was suddenly much further away from where she started than anyone one seemed to realize. And up where the air was less dense, her body had only expanded more. This cyclically made her more surface area with which to catch more of the breeze. And now, after a full day of this, she had helplessly bobbed up the Eastern Seaboard before making it halfway across the Atlantic, estimated to be a full 12 feet across. And now? She was practically bumping against the very edge of space itself. The drone method they had been using to bring the girls down safely? Well, she seemed too big & way too volatile for that. No, not at this point.

Apparently, the military had now gotten involved. Kelse had lucked out. The cost? The sheer amount of resources it would take to get her down in one piece? Over one overinflated coed? Not exactly the kind of thing the Joint Operations would usually stick their nose in. But it was an election year, & the president was behind in the polls. With all of social media abuzz with this last balloon girl, watching, pleading for her safe return? If they pulled this off, it’d be a slam dunk. Not to mention the fact that Kelse had quite a few relatives pretty high up on some of the party donor lists? Well, needless to say, new precedents were being reached, & all the stops were rolled out.

The operation took place far outside the range of most news copters & with the use of some apparently still-classified experimental equipment, so details on the exact process were a bit hazy at best. But in the initial press conference, an admiral, looking a little disinterested that he wasn’t getting to bomb something, laid out how the operation was structured around a two-step plan. And given that Kelse was already at much too high for the standard drones used to retrieve the others, a series of special, high altitude night jumps were carried out by the military’s elite paratrooper corps. What we do know is that somehow, ballast was slowly added. In as low impact a way possible, given just how precariously prone to ‘rupture’ Kelse must’ve still been at this point. She steadily began to descend.

And upon getting her blimp like body within an acceptable range, a large, single drone was deployed. As opposed to flying an array of drones to ensnare Kelse, this single drone seemed to drop what seemed like weighted mesh nets. Each one caused Kelse to drop more & more. Still, the rate of descent was quite slow. And gradually, the blond’s bloated frame was approaching the awaiting deck of one of the Navy’s largest aircraft carriers. The flight crew mobilized quickly, making sure the coed was laden with a bunch of sandbags & kept from flying away again, stowing her with custom cables to the deck. As they prepared for the voyage back to the continental United States, news had broken that all five girls were back on the ground, safely.

Now that they were all rounded up safely, the girls were eventually brought to a large warehouse-like facility for study & observation. One far from campus, unlike Brooklyn had anticipated, with the first four girls transferred there within the first 18 hours aboard police escorted “wide load” trucks, & Kelse finally joining within 36. Further tests & analysis was done, but there was never a satisfying scientific conclusion as to what had actually happened to the girls. No crazy underlying health conditions or allergies or anything. By all accounts it seemed as though each of their bodies just randomly started overproducing some sort of strange helium like gas, completely out of nowhere.

Once all of the girls were safe &, for the most part, sound, the story of the Balloon girls seemed to fade from public consciousness fairly quickly. Typical with the modern news cycle. And fortunately over time, the girls eventually started to expel the gas naturally. Slowly, but steadily, regaining something resembling a feminine shape again, albeit quite wider. After about two weeks, some of them even began touching the ground again. News 6’s very own Charisse Sullivan came in person to do a “where are they now” follow-up a month later, & while it was the first time most of the public heard from any of the girls beyond Brooklyn, it was sort of the swan song of their cultural relevance. The whole thing had almost instantly become a footnote. Memory-holed by most. “Hey remember that day those girls all blimped up & floated away?”

About three months later, as the story dropped off, the hoopla died down, & each of the O’Herlihee’s Five deflated back down as close to normal as they were ever probably going to get, a comment popped up under the eyewitness tiktak video that certainly wasn’t posted by Mischka’s anonymously.

It was quick to blow off at first, given it was posted in cyrillic. And the fact that Mischka couldn’t read cyrillic. But had she simply clicked the “View Translation” link, she would’ve read:

“This reminds me of a dark art I have witnessed once with my own eyes. VERY DANGEROUS STUFF! If whoever is casting this does not understand what it is they are messing with, they will end up reaping five times what they sow.

I just hope they see this before something terrible happens…”

|||

So here is part 2.

I’ve written & rewritten the end three or four times since Sunday. Parts feel a little rushed & might give it one more pass for a little extra love  before I post it as an all-in-one story in the next few days.

One thing I forgot to mention upon first posting this is that the drone/net recovery method was thanks to some twitter brainstorming, with credit to @blimpixels, whose own work is great by the way. 

At any rate, I’m still mostly pretty proud of this story (in 2 parts), so I really hope

EDIT: Hey if check out this epilogue written by Qforshort. It’s a little different from what I had in mind in terms of having them forever remain immobile, but it‘s not too terribly far off for what I had in mind for Mischka maybe sometime down the road heheh